Fall is when the only things you know because I’ve named them begin to end*

I flipped my calendar to October and I feel like I'm finally hitting my stride. Autumn is my favorite season. The rust, golden, and purpled hue of leaves. Earlier nights. A crispness in the morning air. The beginning of a season of soups, mugs of cocoa, and the wafting scent of cloves, cinnamon, and ginger in pies, bread, and cakes. Apples, pumpkins, and vintage horror films. Stacks of books filled with ghosts - real and imagined - haunted churchyards, and nefarious villains. Let's ignore the fact that Chattanooga is still humid and rife with summer's heat. Soon, the temperatures will drop. This season will quiet and I will slowly begin to loosen my grip and let go of the past like so many autumn leaves. 

My divorce will be final mid-November; October is the last month I will spend as a married woman. Well, my marriage has been over for a year and I've been facing the music for the past six months. Next week, my children will leave me for an entire week to be with their father for fall break. I haven't been away from my small children for more than a few days and I've never been at home without my children for this length of time. The start of this season signals my first foray into holidays alone. Christmas with the kids and not with their father. My children with their father for Thanksgiving and me filling up the absence with other people I love.  

Anxiety constantly ripples through me. It would take one car repair to destabilize my finances. One missed alimony check to impact a credit card payment. My credit score and savings account have declined. But I'm doing it. The essential bills are being paid. I'm staying in the home where I pay too much rent so I don't have to move the children for the fourth time in three years. If I could figure out the time and energy to haul off the recycling and fold laundry, then I would really be a sufficient adult.

I try to remind myself that this financial strain is temporary. Eventually, I will finish paying off the van and sign it over to my ex-husband. The final attorney fee will get paid at some point. In the spring, I'll have a little bit of a tax return I can use to pay off credit card debt. I'll slowly begin to rebuild. The thing I struggle with the most is feeling like a shitty mom. I have two little ones who look to me to keep them safe and comfortable. I need to buy fall and winter clothing. I cannot even begin to think about how different Christmas will be this year. 

To quell that anxiety and loss, I thought I'd think about the exciting new things I'm anticipating in October. I'm letting go of so much and that letting go has made room for me to embrace new experiences and have the space to appreciate what I already have.

• My career: Yesterday was such a professionally satisfying day. I got really excited about the book chapter I'm co-authoring and I loved having the time to talk with my brilliant colleagues. I had a 45-minute reference session with two students; they were excited about their research and it was wonderful to observe their growing comfort with the research process. Afterward, I led a scavenger hunt in the library. I pulled books for a Pride Week display and worked on materials and advertising for the zine and memes workshop I'm co-leading next week. The icing on the cake was a student approaching the service desk and asking me if I could recommend poetry books. We went to the stacks and found poems and poets galore and the student talked about their writing aspirations and left with two books and a few names of my favorite poets. I have a job that fulfills my desire to be a helper, is intellectually satisfying, and allows me to grow and learn. 
• Relationships: There is an entire post brewing about how my friends have really shown up for me. Friends who will answer my phone calls during an anxiety attack. Friends who will drink wine or coffee with me while we talk about our lives. Friends who feed me copious amounts of pasta or bring me small treasures to brighten my day. My friends from back home call to check-in and we actively work on making plans to see each other. I have friends who tolerate many text messages about men, dating, and other matters of the heart. I've been lucky to have dated some cool dudes who have remained friends and I'm excited to see where new relationships take me. I have people in my life who care for me, support me, and are willing to show up. 
• My kids: I have three amazing kids. I'm continually impressed by the tenacity and courage of my oldest daughter. She inspires me daily to make tough decisions and persevere. Atticus and Persy are delightful. There's hugs, songs, stories, and so much joy. My children love me so well and I constantly endeavor to deserve them. My children love me and their love is truly all I need to sustain my heart. 
• Health: I'm seeing a rad therapist and working hard at EMDR. I'm back on my anti-depressant and anxiety medication. I go to Zumba at least three days a week. I have an excellent doctor who listens to me and encourages me to be kind to myself. My body and mind are healthy and stable. 
• I'm getting out of the house. I'm going to a concert next week, there's Harry Potter trivia at the end of the month, I have a few lunch dates and happy hours planned with friends and colleagues. I'm hoping to make my way to a few museums and the used bookstore this month. Despite my anxiety, I'm going out with people who make my heart happy and I'm experiencing art, music, nature, and all the Chattanooga has to offer.  
• It is my favorite season: I'm short on time and attention, but I'm working on it. I have some yarn ready to go on some needles. I'm excited about blogging again. My TBR stack is filled with poetry, books about Victorians, and cozy classics. I'm making a return to baking bread and cooking soup each week. I'm writing in my journal. I have a plethora of inexpensive, cozy, and introvert sustaining activities lined up to carry me through the season. 

The title of this poem is from the Maggie Smith poem entitled "First Fall." "Fall is when the only things you know because I've named them begin to end." There are parts of my life that are falling away and grief, insecurity, and anxiety encroach in those places of absence. However, "soon I'll have another season to offer you...." A new season is emerging, the anxiety is still there, but this new season is one of contentment, growing confidence, supremely cozy evenings at home, and a softening of my heart, a loosening and falling away of past hurts.

I'm going to be okay. I'm going to be more than okay. This autumn, I'm letting go what hurts and holding close what heals. 

* This title is from a poem by Maggie Smith entitled "First Fall."